Blizzard Burlesques
by Searlait
Summary: A series of oneshot scenarios, the stranger the better: A camping trip with Elsa. An all-Arendelle rock-and-roll band. Whatever off-the-wall scenarios in which our favorite frigid friends could find themselves (unlikely as it would be), you might find them here. One rule: anachronisms abound, but characters remain true. Intended entirely for amusement and lighthearted fun!
1. The Camping Trip

**You can blame my own silly inclinations and the egging on of Lady Tralala and NicPie for this. Well, actually, let me change that a bit - credit them if you enjoy it, blame me if you don't! This is intended entirely for amusement value, no great character breakthroughs or sweeping story arcs here, just some lighthearted fun in the midst of the darkness that I usually find myself writing. So... hopefully it serves its purpose! **

**If people enjoy it - and really, let me know if you don't, because I can stop anytime if it gets painfully bad - then I'll keep it going. And if you'd like to suggest a crazy scenario in which to place Anna, Elsa, and co., do let me know that, too. Just make sure to tell me if you want a particular character to appear, so I don't leave your favorite out. Maybe you'll even convince me to try my hand at writing Olaf... Something I have yet to brave. **

**Now, if you're still with me - and I hope some of you are - let's meet our first scenario, inspired by a conversation with NicPie that began with consideration of Elsa and fishing. What would happen if Anna and Kristoff talked her into going camping? She made it up that mountain, but Elsa still doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type, does she? Though like I said before, all lighthearted fun. For some of them, anyway...**

* * *

**The Camping Trip**

Elsa looked down at her dress.

At the rather unkempt-looking bag Anna had dumped at her feet.

At her own hands, soft and clean and _not_ prepared for this kind of nonsense. She looked at Anna's hands, one of which had a large bruise on it, from who-knew-what, and dirt around the nails. She looked at Kristoff's hands, which reminded her vaguely of the mountains he climbed, bumpy and callused and rough. One pair of these things was not like the others.

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

Anna grinned and shrugged. "Bonding time?"

"Right. And that can't be done here because...?"

"You've been here for 13 years. Haven't you had enough?"

She had a point. But Elsa still was not sure – at all – that this was not going to end with her death by exposure. If she _could_ die by exposure. Perhaps an ironic eternity of exposure with only increasing frustration at her inability to die by the elements.

Anna tried another tack: "Look at it this way, okay? Weren't you even a _little_ hungry in that palace of yours?"

Elsa cocked an eyebrow at her sister: all the answer she felt she needed to give.

"Let's say you were, okay? Next time – not that there will be a next time, not that there could _possibly_ be a next time, I know you won't do it again, but just on the off chance, you know, if you-"

"Anna."

"...If it happened again, you'd be prepared!"

Kristoff was beginning to seem rather uncomfortable with the whole situation, or at least that's how Elsa interpreted his shuffling his feet and looking around and playing with his hat, which was in his hands rather than on his head where it belonged. "Anna, maybe we should just... go by ourselves," he said.

He made the mistake of looking towards Elsa just then. If looks could freeze... "I don't think so," she said.

Kristoff very quickly found he was fascinated by the wood grain of the door. Anna rolled her eyes and huffed and sighed. "You _do_ know he was with me out there before, right? All alone? And we managed to maintain all necessary decorum and... whatever?"

The look turned her way. "I am aware of what happened, yes. Do you want to push your luck any further along those lines?"

Another eye-roll, but Anna had a least finally learned enough to know when to stop – this time, anyway. "Nevermind that. You _said_ you'd go."

"I said I would try."

"You promised!"

"I said I would see how my schedule looked, and _would try_."

"Your schedule's clear!"

"Anna, stop going through my desk."

Anna gave her a wounded look. "I _didn't_. I only... glanced at your calendar when I was in there to... uh..."

"Pretend you had pressing business. Yes, I know. You're not particularly subtle."

Anna started to protest, but Kristoff poked her shoe with his own boot and said, "Give up. She's right."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Nobody's. I just want to go before it's next week."

"Then let's go! C'mon. Now. Let's go now. I'm ready to go."

Elsa cleared her throat. "Do we need to cover this again, Anna?"

"No. You're coming too."

And she was. Of course she was. Because despite the pleasure she felt in needling her sister – pleasure she suspected would have dissipated years ago if they had grown up normally, one of the few ways in which she appreciated their long separation – she also remained determined to keep her promises to Anna. And she _had_ promised. She knew that as well as Anna did.

She picked up the bag, examined the straps with a certain degree of uncertainty, and tried to fit them over her shoulders. Her arms didn't appear to bend that way, however, and no matter how she tried, the stupid things were twisting. Or maybe turning. She couldn't tell. She couldn't _see_ them. She was practically going in circles, fighting to get them on, and she almost tripped over her own feet when she suddenly found herself knocking elbows with the wall, concentrating too hard on what she was trying to do to notice where she was going.

How very regal.

Anna was struggling to hide her laughter, so it was Kristoff who took pity on her. He looked distinctly uncomfortable – almost as uncomfortable as Elsa felt, really – but he managed to get her sorted out, the bag hanging like a strange animal from her back, without ever actually touching her, which she appreciated. She also appreciated Anna's near-tact in turning away to hide her giggling. It was a start.

She straightened her posture, gave them both the most calm, collected, I-am-in-control-of-this-situation look she could manage, and tried a small smile. "Alright, then. Let's go camping."

* * *

Three hours later, she was strongly considering disinheriting Anna as her sister, leaving her to Kristoff and their miserable outdoors, going back home, and never, ever, under any circumstances, no matter who asked, no matter the tone of voice or the circumstances, up to and including the end of the world, opening her door ever again.

Also, Anna's bag was smaller than hers. She could swear up and down that it was exactly the same, but if that was the case, why was she still bouncing around like a deranged rabbit while Elsa felt as if she had been saddled with several tons of bricks? Anna couldn't possibly be that much stronger than her. Could not be. It just wasn't possible. She refused to even consider it.

She had walked up an entire damn mountain. By herself. On foot. Running for much of it. So what was this? Since when had the woods been so full of roots and rocks and... things she could trip over? Since when did she trip _at all_?

She knew the answer. Since she'd been dragged out on this ridiculous trip with this ridiculous (and heavy) bag and her ridiculous (and _not_ stronger) sister and her sister's ridiculous consort or whatever it was he was to her, because she didn't care, they _deserved_ one another. And she deserved to go home. Where she never tripped, because there was nothing to trip over, because sensible people had invented floors so it wouldn't be an issue for anyone with more coordination than Anna.

"About time to stop," Kristoff said, looking up at some invisible sign in the sky that must have said "take pity on your long-suffering queen."

Anna heaved an enormous sigh, dumped her bag from her shoulders, and flopped on the ground as if perhaps she was a little – just a little – more tired than she had appeared. Well, good. She deserved to be.

"So we, uh... we just stop here?" Elsa asked, and hoped it wasn't a ridiculous question.

"We just stop here," Kristoff confirmed. He dumped his own bag – which was, admittedly, significantly bigger than Anna's and Elsa's combined – and leaned backwards, stretching his back and looking again at the sky. "At least it looks like it'll be a nice night."

"Oh, uh... well... good."

"When do we eat?" Anna asked, rolling on her side. Her hair had a leaf stuck in it. Elsa forced herself not to react – Anna would just love that. She had absolutely no clue how a princess was supposed to look. (Then again, if Elsa were to point that out, she would probably throw right back that thigh-high slits in skintight dresses made of ice were not really the normal décor of a queen, which was not what Elsa wanted to hear right now. She was wearing perfectly acceptable clothes, now. Old ones. But perhaps still a bit too nice for the woods. She didn't have anything else. And she was _not_ going to ask Anna for help with dressing for this ridiculous "adventure.")

"Soon as I can catch something," Kristoff said. "Want to go?"

Anna flopped back. "Nah, that's okay. I'm tired."

He poked her again with his boot, but this time in her side. Elsa raised an eyebrow, but Anna appeared not in the least nonplussed. "Lazy," he said.

"Yep."

"Fine. I'll be back soon."

He didn't ask Elsa if she wanted to go. She wondered if she should be offended.

"What do you think so far?" Anna asked, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. There were leaves and pine needles and mud all over the back of her dress, and still that leaf in her hair. Elsa resisted the urge to at least pluck away the latter. She also resisted the urge to sit herself, despite the protests of her aching back and legs. She did take her bag off and put it carefully next to Anna's.

"I think it's... rather different from what I usually do with my afternoons," she said.

Anna smiled at her, apparently thrilled at the implication that she had drawn Elsa into something new. "Yeah, that's for sure. Have you ever met a happy diplomat?"

"Once. He had just decided to quit."

Anna laughed. "You're funny. When you want to be."

"I... am?"

"Yeah, you are. I like it." She patted the ground next to her. "You can sit down, you know."

"Well, I, uh..." She couldn't come up with an excuse that wouldn't point out that Anna appeared to be wearing the woods, and this wasn't something she really wished to emulate. She took a step closer to Anna. Started to ease herself down, gingerly, trying to avoid touching the ground...

And realized she was very nearly face to face with the most enormous, multicolored, multi-legged, bristling, angry-looking insect she had ever seen in her life.

Perhaps she screamed. Certainly, Anna jumped like she had. What she was sure she did was launch a blast of ice sharp enough and large enough to probably annihilate most of the insects in the forest. Which would be _just fine_ by her. Because it might still be coming. She fell backwards from her own blast, scrambling back, scrabbling at the dirt and trying to keep her balance and gasping to catch her breath and there might be _more_, she turned frantically to look behind her, _lost _her balance, fell on her side, squeezed her eyes closed, and waited for the end to come.

Unfortunately, it didn't.

She opened her eyes again when several moments passed and nothing seemed to be trying to coming in for the mortal blow.

Anna was gaping at her. There was a very large divot in the ground a few feet away from both of them, and ice running halfway up the trunk of the tree where it had bounced from the earth. Elsa pushed herself up on one elbow, tried to smile.

"Bug," she said.

Anna slowly closed her mouth. She looked from Elsa, to the ice, back to Elsa. Then she started to laugh. And laugh. Laughing so hard that she too fell over, but she appeared in no hurry to get back up, so hysterical that tears ran down her face.

Elsa pushed herself back to a sit. Tried to regain some sort of composure, since her self-respect was not going to come back anytime soon. Didn't matter now about the dirt – she was wearing more than Anna.

Bugs. _Bugs_. Dirt and rocks and roots and insects. Again – this was the reason for civilization. Elsa was now _very fond_ of civilization. And winter. No bugs in winter. Nice layer of snow over everything, kept it all smoothed out. She might freeze everything again, this time on purpose. Starting with her obnoxious sister.

"So, uh..." Anna began when she had a modicum of control back, pushing herself up to sit next to Elsa, which was _probably_ not the best place for her to be, for her own safety, but Elsa wasn't going to warn her. "You don't like bugs?"

"I haven't met many. I think perhaps my room is too cold for them."

Another snort of laughter. "Maybe so. Kristoff says you can eat them."

Elsa felt an inclination to gape as Anna had done, but managed to restrain herself. "Does he now?"

"But I don't know if I believe him. He likes to rile me up."

Elsa couldn't help it – the temptation was too strong, the chance to get a tiny bit of revenge. She elbowed Anna, smiled at her. "I've noticed. Then again, you make it almost too easy."

"I do not!"

Elsa smirked. Let it be at that. Let Anna stew for awhile. She deserved it.

Dusk had arrived by the time Kristoff got back. He had something slung over his shoulder – something with fur. Elsa shuddered a bit, and hoped it was dark enough that no one noticed. He dumped it to the ground, dug around in one of the bags for a knife, and then looked like he was going to go for it, right there. Anna didn't seem in the least bit concerned (though Elsa did notice she was not looking at what he was doing, rather pointedly it seemed).

But Elsa wasn't sure she would be able to look away. So she pushed herself quickly back to her feet – despite her feet protesting rather dramatically – and said, "Uh, I'll go look for firewood. We need a fire. You need a fire. It gets cold at night."

Now it was Anna's turn to smirk: _I'm onto you_. Elsa made a face at her, and left as quickly as she could without running.

...Only to realize that finding firewood was something else she had no clue how to do. When had she ever needed a fire? The fireplace in her bedroom probably had more dust in it than the space under Anna's bed. She might as well use it to store clothes in, for all the good it did otherwise.

The only wood she had ever seen for fires was carefully cut, into perfect lengths and widths for its purposes. There was lots of wood in the woods – the clue was rather in the name – but how did she know what to get? Most of it was too big. Or – she made the mistake of attempting to pick some up – it seemed to be _rotten_. She jerked her hands back with a hiss, rubbed them briskly on the side of her dress, trying to rid them of the feel of that mushy softness, the smell.

Dirt, rocks, roots, insects, and rot. The wilderness just got better and better.

She kicked the offending branch. It cracked apart, and now there were what looked like several thousand insects pouring out of it – she had had her _hands_ on that – and before she knew it, she was scuttling back towards Anna and Kristoff, huddled against herself, pointing and making incoherent noises and ready to kill everything in the woods including her human companions.

Anna started to say something, but Kristoff quickly shushed her. Which was fortunate for both of them. One of them had some sense. Maybe Elsa would let him live.

_Maybe_.

She drew herself up again. Straightened, folded her hands carefully before her. Queen face. _Queen face_. Glare at them. Both of them, shushing one too, because these were _his_ woods. She'd let him live long enough to get her home, because she didn't know the way. After that, no promises.

"We can find enough wood around here," Kristoff said.

Anna was smirking again. Elsa gave her the most contemptuous look she could manage, but it didn't appear to have much effect. So she crossed her arms and glared. Still nothing.

The princess was going to find herself absolutely _buried_ in etiquette lessons when this was over.

Elsa remained standing, looking pointedly at anything but what Kristoff was doing, while he finished... whatever was happening to whatever he had caught. And while he built up a fire. And while Anna made happy noises in front of it, and then started complaining – very loudly – that she was starving. And while Kristoff told her to calm down, they'd eat soon.

Whatever it was, it smelled quite good. But Elsa remained where she was. She was – admit it, your highness – sulking.

Then Anna said, "Elsa? Do you want to eat with us?" And it was in that tone of voice she had heard so many times through the door. And, of course, she looked. How could she not? And Anna looked worried, and she was smiling hopefully, and she had what looked like a perfectly acceptable plate of... something... in her hands.

Elsa went. It took her awhile to figure out how to sit on the ground – skirts were not designed for this, at least not of the type she favored – but she finally settled on tucking her legs beneath her, which wasn't perhaps optimal, but at least looked slightly more modest than Anna's comfortable splay. And she tried very hard not to think about whatever might be lurking in the dark, outside of the circle of the firelight, possibly inching towards her hands...

She tucked her hands on her lap. And was glad she had worn boots, for a change.

Could bugs get _inside_ boots?

Best not to think about it.

Like that was going to happen.

Focus on the food. Kristoff had plates that appeared to be made of tin, well-dented and with a slightly odd smell, but Elsa smiled and thanked him and was glad she, unlike Anna, had been well trained in appearing pleased when she was not entirely feeling it.

They ate in silence for awhile, and Elsa had to admit, the food wasn't as terrible as she might have expected, despite finding the occasional furry bit in it. She still didn't know what it was, but it was certainly edible.

"Did you leave in the tripe?" Anna asked – and her voice sounded just a _bit_ too innocent for Elsa's liking.

"Decided you like it after all?" Kristoff gave back. But that was not a "yes" or a "no." Elsa stopped eating. She glanced at Anna, but Anna was looking pointedly elsewhere. Kristoff was still eating, apparently unconcerned, but Anna's face said she was up to something.

Again.

And she was going to make Elsa ask. Because Elsa was not going to take another bite until she did, and Anna probably knew it. "The... tripe?"

"It's Kristoff's favorite part," Anna said.

"Is not," Kristoff said around a mouthful of something, which might or might not be... tripe.

"Is too. Disgusting."

Kristoff wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I'm not the one who's always going on about it."

"And... what is it... exactly?"

Anna was still trying to look innocent, but failing miserably. "You want to tell her?"

"All yours."

"It used to be a delicacy, you know."

"_Anna_."

Anna smiled, eyes shining. "Entrails," she said. "You know – all the guts and stuff."

"...As I explained it to you like two days ago," Kristoff said.

"I knew what it was!"

"No, you didn't."

"I did!"

Elsa hardly heard them. He hadn't said that this... _tripe_... wasn't in there. He had never confirmed or denied. She looked at her plate. Considered how much she had already eaten. Very, very carefully placed it at her side. Looked back to see how far she would have to go to be out of sight when the rest came back up.

Deep breaths. _Very_ deep breaths.

Kristoff – again – seemed to take pity on her. And again, she thought she might let him survive to enjoy another day. And if this was the way he enjoyed spending that day, so be it, as long as she was far, far away. "There's none in there," he said, and his voice was gentle.

Elsa could have hugged him. If she hugged anyone, which she usually didn't, because the only person she had on occasion hugged was Anna, and _that_ was not going to happen again anytime soon.

Nonetheless, she decided she had had enough to eat. She let them finished, let herself enjoy the fact that the worst of the trip must be over now. No more walking, it was dark, they had eaten, soon they would sleep, and tomorrow, _homeward_. She would never complain about signatory duties again. She would look forward to them, _relish_ them. Anything that could be done sitting safely surrounded by four walls. Sitting on a _chair_. All she wanted for the rest of her life, walls and a chair.

And food that didn't still have some fur on it. That would be nice, too.

She was getting tired, and clearly, Anna was too – she was yawning dramatically, and finally flopped again onto her back. "I'm stuffed. Bedtime?"

"Bedtime sounds great," Kristoff said. "I'll just go wash these." He took the plates and disappeared, and Elsa wondered what "wash" meant out here, then decided she probably would rather not know. Particularly if it might explain the odd smell that had been coming off the metal. It must mean a stream, right? Just water. Maybe with strange minerals in it. That would explain it.

"Tired, Elsa?" Anna asked, leaning her head back and opening one eye to look at her sister.

"A bit."

"You'll sleep great out here. It's amazing, how well you sleep after walking all day."

"I can imagine." She wasn't sure she believed it would happen, however. Her mind kept trying to return to insects crawling into her boots. Which she definitely planned to leave on while she slept.

"We brought you a blanket. I said you just kick them off, but Kristoff said we should anyway."

"That was kind of him."

Anna laughed. "Yeah, he's _such_ a gentleman." She rolled, sat up, grabbed one of the bags and started digging through it. "They're in here somewhere... Ah!" She pulled out several pieces of fabric that might, after the fire had gone out, have been able to pass as blankets, but they were certainly closer, Elsa thought, to something she might expect to find being used to clean up particularly noxious spills. They smelled even stranger than the plates had – musty.

Reading her mind, Anna said, "Yeah, they smell like Sven. You get used to it."

Thoughtful as the gesture was, Elsa might forgo a blanket.

Anna dumped them by a tree and pushed around on the ground for awhile, which was strange, but even stranger – and more ominous – was that when she felt she had pushed enough (whatever it was she pushing), she spread the blankets on top of her mysterious piles. Out in the open.

Elsa suspected she was going to have to ask another stupid question. "Do we... put up tents?"

"Huh?"

"Or I can... I might be able to make up something... from ice... Though it might be a bit cold for you and Kristoff."

"Kristoff sometimes makes shelters, but he said it should be warm enough tonight without. It's really nice – you can see all the stars."

"I... I could really..."

"He showed me some constellations, but I don't remember what they were. You should ask him."

"Anna..."

Anna leaned towards her, around the fire. "Not scared of the dark, are you?" She was grinning again.

"Of course not. It'll be fine."

"Yep." Anna fell back onto one of the beds – if that's what they were – and sighed contentedly. "Yep, it will be fine. Keep telling yourself that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Another very innocent look. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

And just like that, she appeared to fall asleep.

Kristoff came back, smiled rather distractedly in Elsa's direction, and asked – the first time he had addressed her directly all day – if it was okay to put out the fire. He didn't seem to know what to call her, as usual, and seemed vaguely concerned that she might throw something at him, and it took him a very long time to finally just ask the question.

"Of course," she said, to save him any more stammering. And despite the fact that she would really have preferred to keep the fire. Not for the heat, but the light was nice.

Because when it was gone, it was very, _very_ dark.

Elsa stayed where she was for a time, listening to the sounds of Anna and Kristoff asleep – and she had made sure that Anna's weird little dirt-nests weren't _that_ close together, and Anna better not think she wouldn't notice if they were – and then the sounds of the forest. Because there were certainly a lot of them: cracks, and slithers, and rustles, and strange little noises like voices whispering...

Didn't animals hunt at night? Animals that would happily eat people?

And the insects – lots of those were nocturnal.

Damn her tutors for covering entomology.

Maybe the blankets didn't smell that bad.

Maybe she would get used to the smell.

Maybe she would just sit up all night on top of one. Wishing Anna had put it just a little bit closer to her own.

Elsa tried to shuffle the blanket closer to her sister without waking her. Almost fell on top of her. Wondered if she was making enough noise to catch anything's attention.

She slowly, very slowly, eased herself down so that she was lying half-curled on her side, facing Anna, which didn't make her feel as safe as she had hoped. Anna had said Kristoff usually built a shelter – had they done this before, slept without one? Did they _know_ it wasn't just asking to get eaten by wolves? Or devoured by bugs? Or... or carried away by some large bird? Or whatever else could happen in the woods to fools who decided to sleep out in the open like they didn't have a care in the world, because two out of three of them had sadly been born with _no common sense whatsoever_?

Make that three out of three, Elsa amended – because she had let them talk her into coming along. And it was clearly going to be a _long_ night.

She reminded herself that she could probably handle anything that tried to eat them. But why was Anna in the middle? Let her get eaten first, giving Elsa had a chance to throw a blizzard the other way while she ran. Anna's idea, Anna could be dinner.

She heard something that sounded ominously nearby. Creeping through the slimy, rotten layer of leaves that coated the forest floor. Crunching occasionally, closer and closer...

It stopped.

Elsa huddled a little closer to Anna.

She didn't hear anything else. For what felt like a very long time.

There it was again.

Elsa tensed.

It was so close she could almost feel its breath.

Then she did feel it. Right at the back of her neck.

This time, she _knew_ she screamed. Screamed, and grabbed Anna with her right hand, because she needed her left to blast whatever was after them.

Anna cried out and jerked away, but Elsa had lost her balance, and she fell on top of her and Anna grunted as she lost her breath, and they both went over on Kristoff, who grabbed them and threw them to the side, already yelling at them to stay back. He was scrambling in the dirt, _just_ where Elsa had been, and she knew that, as much as he and Anna had irritated her tonight, she couldn't let whatever it was get him. So she closed her eyes, hoped for the best, and threw out her hand.

Snow fell, dainty little flakes dancing in the air.

Not quite what she had hoped for.

Of course it wasn't. Because when had her powers _ever_ been cooperative?

"Elsa, you ice-spear him and I'll never speak to you again!" Anna shouted at her. Ever helpful.

"I'm trying to save your life!"

"That's _his_ job!"

"It's everyone's job, you're a walking menace!"

"I'm not the one who just fell on everyone!"

"There's something out there!"

"_Be quiet_!" Kristoff yelled at both of them.

They did as told.

A few moments later, he got a match lit, used it to dig a lamp from his bag and lit that too, then surveyed the area around them. Through the snow that was still drifting lazily down through the trees.

Well, at least she'd managed that much.

Kristoff was holding the lamp with one hand and scratching the back of his head with the other. Maybe realizing he'd yelled at her – at someone who could quite easily order him locked away in the smallest, darkest, dankest prison cell for the rest of his natural life – he said, "Could have been a squirrel or something."

"A _squirrel_," Anna said.

If she wanted an ice-spear, Elsa was tempted to give her one. "It sounded larger than a squirrel," she said.

"Maybe a fox," Kristoff said. His tone was still carefully even, placating, and Elsa really wanted to ask him to read ecclesiastical jurisdiction amendments for 14 hours some day, see how he liked _that_.

She was finally getting her breath back. Sort of - it was still hitching rather alarmingly. She got back to her feet, carefully dusted herself off, though considering she was now wearing as much of the forest as Anna, it probably didn't help anything except - slightly - her state of mind. Then she folded her hands again. Let Kristoff finish his search, if it made him feel better. Let Anna roll her eyes and flop back on the ground.

Alright, so maybe it _had_ just been a bug again. Or nothing at all.

But probably, she thought, it had been a bear. She just wouldn't tell them that.

Best not to scare them.

* * *

Anna came in as Elsa was attempting not to fall asleep over everything on her desk that had piled up in her brief absence. She had not slept much. Or at all. She wasn't sure, but she did know she had seen in the dawn. Gratefully.

"So, uh... how'd you like it?"

Elsa gave her a look that hopefully spoke volumes.

Anna laughed. "That much, huh?"

"Even more." And if Anna failed to pick up on the sarcasm that dripped from the words, Elsa couldn't help her.

"Want to do it again sometime?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to be busy for the next several years. Perhaps as long as a decade."

Anna cleared a space on the edge of the desk and sat, and her smile was kinder than Elsa probably deserved. "You really _are_ funny. And it was fun. I like doing things with you, you know."

Her stupid sister could melt her every time. "I like it, too."

"So... we'll do _something_ again?"

"Of course." Elsa smiled back at her, and hoped it conveyed every dark promise in the world. "But next time... I choose the entertainment."

"...I'll warn Kristoff to dress warm."

"You do that."

Anna hopped off the desk and grinned at her. "Bugs, huh? I'll remember that."

She was almost out the door when Elsa managed to get the snowball conjured and thrown.

Almost, but not quite.


	2. The Press Conference

**Credit for this one goes to Lady Tralala. She suggested the question about temperature, too. The conversations about these are fun! I wish I had been able to make this one a little longer, to really do it justice, but it didn't seem to me that Elsa would necessarily have allowed it to go on for long if everyone was yelling at her - have to have a ****_little_**** realism here, because they'd totally be having a press conference, right? That was very common circa 1840! **

**Also, hey, first time writing... a certain character. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Press Conference**

Anna sat on the end of Elsa's bed, swinging her legs, elbows on her knees, chin on her hands, watching her sister getting ready to go out. Did it always take her this long? Though that would explain why she always looked so darn... _queenly_.

Was that a word?

Didn't matter. It was now.

"Aren't you supposed to have people help you with this?"

Elsa didn't look away from where she was tucking her hair up, maddeningly slowly from Anna's perspective, into an intricate bundle at the back of her head. Her eyes, in the mirror, flicked towards Anna, then back to her own painstaking work. "I suppose so. But I can do it myself."

"It might be faster if you let someone help you."

"Bored?"

"Of course not."

"Then sit still. I can see you in the mirror. You're distracting me."

Anna threw her head back and fell backwards to the bed. "Better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She could never tell if Elsa was being sarcastic or not. "You know, I can get dressed in less than five minutes. _With_ a corset."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Anna lifted her head. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

In the mirror, Elsa just smiled – close-lipped. Anna sighed dramatically and dropped her head back. Sometimes, it just wasn't worth it – Elsa always won the verbal spars.

Physical ones too, actually. Snowballs from thin air were _not fair_.

And besides, she had promised herself that today she was going to be nice. Because she knew Elsa was probably feeling more stressed out than she was letting on. Anna knew _she_ was feeling the stress, and it wasn't even her thing. She would be there, of course. And she was here now because she'd woken up before dawn anticipating, had driven herself crazy for several hours, then driven everyone else she could find crazy, and had finally decided it was time for Elsa to be up so she could drive _her_ crazy, or, as she would have put it if asked, provide a needed distraction. Elsa had already _been_ up, but of course she didn't announce that to the world like Anna did – inadvertently, perhaps, because quiet was overrated – so how was Anna to have known? Regardless, she thought Elsa might want some support. Or distraction. Or something. And Elsa hadn't kicked her out, so she'd stayed.

"Did you decide if I can answer a question?"

There was a long enough silence that Anna picked her head up again. Elsa had a mouthful of pins for her hair, so maybe that was why she hadn't answered. But the way her eyebrows were drawn down suggested otherwise. She finished with her hair, turned on the bench to face Anna.

"I still don't think it's a good idea."

"Please? _Please_? Look, I already told you, you can just look at me when you think it's a good one. I promise I won't just jump in, even if I have a _really_ good answer. Just let me answer _one_."

"...We'll see."

It was better than a "no." She was making progress. First the door opening, then getting her back from her little mountain retreat, finally grabbing her in an occasional hug that she almost didn't flinch away from. And now something close to an affirmative answer. At this rate, Anna would only have to wait until she was 40 to get an outright "yes." But still – better than "no."

"Shall we, then?"

Anna sat up, bounced to her feet. "It's time?"

Elsa took a deep breath. "It's time." But as Anna jumped for the door, she grabbed her. "Wait." Looked at her critically, turning her head to the side. Considered for a long moment. Anna wondered if she had something on her face. It was always possible. Likely, even.

But Elsa was looking her right in the eye. "I'm going to ask you to do something for me, alright?"

"Sure. Anything."

"...If I look inclined to freeze anyone or anything, _that_ is when you step in and answer. Okay?"

For a beat, Anna just stared at her. Then she grinned. "Got it, your majesty. At your service. No freezing allowed."

Elsa rolled her eyes, but let Anna link her arm with hers. And drag her out at a _much_ faster clip than she normally allowed.

Progress.

* * *

Anna could hear the noise from outside before they reached the bottom of the stairs. The guards at the doors looked distinctly nervous – could be they were worried about the crowd in the square, but just as likely they were more worried about what Elsa might do to that crowd. And what they were supposed to do if she did. That part of the whole "guarding the kingdom" thing hadn't been entirely ironed out yet. Hard to know what your job was when your queen could pretty much handle an army on her own.

Guard Anna, maybe. She could use a personal trip-guard. She'd have to suggest it after this was over.

Kristoff's face if she showed up everywhere with a couple of particularly handsome young guards, in their flashy uniforms, with their shiny swords, would be an added bonus. They could sit on the back of the sled.

"What's so funny?" Elsa asked.

"Nothing, nothing... I'll tell you later." She thought about the likely expression on Elsa's face if she tried to explain why handsome guards sitting on the back of Kristoff's sled while he sulked at the reins would be funny. Elsa's sense of humor was a little hard to figure out sometimes. She gave Anna a lot of exasperated looks when Anna thought something was clearly hilarious, but the feeling was perhaps not mutual. "Maybe."

She watched Elsa go straight-backed and high-headed, that queen pose she did. Watched her take ridiculously tiny steps and fold her hands in front of her as she approached the door– but no gloves, that was a good start, particularly today, with the whole likelihood-of-freezing-someone-or-something thing. Anna walked behind her. She felt stupid if she tried to walk like Elsa, but felt ridiculous just walking, so she was never sure what to do. She settled on practicing how to hold her arms – straight at her sides, or bend her elbows a little? Straight-armed seemed more formal, but bent-elbows was a little more comfortable. And she was-

-About to walk right into Elsa as the doors opened, which _probably_ would not go over well. Right. Arms for later. Practice tonight. Time now for smiling.

Teeth, or no teeth?

They were announcing Elsa. She was stepping outside.

Were they going to announce Anna? Why didn't anyone ever tell her how these things were supposed to go?

She should have read that etiquette book Elsa had given her. (Okay, maybe the first copy had _actually_ accidentally fallen off the sled when she was out with Kristoff, because she had definitely _planned_ to read it while he was doing his ice-stuff. She had no idea what had happened to the second one. But it definitely had not been her fault that _both_ copies had mysteriously vanished.)

She still hadn't decided how to smile. She tried it with teeth. It felt a little forced. Tried it without. Would she look kind of... stuck-up? (She resisted her mind's attempt to move on to amend that to "Elsa-y." Because that was just mean. If maybe a little bit true.) Maybe just sort of... half teeth?

"...Princess Anna of Arendelle."

Oh. They were going to announce her. Where had Elsa gone?

Anna fixed the half-smile in place. Her lips were sticking to her teeth. Stupid mouth. Who had designed smiles, anyway?

She still couldn't see Elsa.

Walking without looking – bad idea. There was a lip at the door, and Anna feet found anything raised. Maybe nobody noticed. Because it would be very easy, when several hundred people were looking right at her, for magically _none_ of them to notice her almost falling right on top of them. Yep. Definitely the way it had gone.

Smile. Smile smile _smiiile_.

Where the hell was Elsa?

...There. Looking perfect, of course. Anna resisted the urge to run to her, because Elsa was probably annoyed that she had been 2.5 seconds late in getting out the door. She walked.

Kind of quickly. Not _too_ quickly. Hopefully.

Stood next to Elsa.

Smiled. Smiled and smiled.

She should just give up being princess and run away into the mountains with Kristoff. Elsa could come, if she liked. They could be mountain pirates. Have amazing adventures. No more smiling for a bunch of drooling idiots.

Stupid eighteenth century, for inventing journals and the people who wrote for them. Why should the nineteenth century have to put up with their weird little obsessions? They should drop all the dead Greek guys who wrote philosophy while they were at it. She could make a list.

She must have looked a little manic. She felt it. Elsa put a hand on her arm, gently, and gave her a very, _very _tight smile that clearly meant, "Behave, please."

Anna gave her the full-toothed smile.

Elsa returned a slightly startled look.

Definitely not the one to use, then.

Now Elsa was turning back to the crowd of people – the bloodthirsty pack of journalists. "Thank you for coming today. I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. I know that many of you have questions you would like to ask about recent events in the kingdom, and I am happy to try to answer as many of them as -"

A voice from the middle of the pack rang out over her: "Your majesty, did you really freeze your sister to death?"

Oh, boy.

She had promised not to answer questions until she was given the okay. Promised. But oh, _boy_, did Anna have an answer for him. It involved lots of creative words, many of them short and pithy, the kind her tutors would probably give her lots of red lines on her essays for using.

Elsa was doing the tight-lipped smile again. "As you can see, my sister is here with me today. She has recovered from her injuries and is doing very well."

Wow. A compliment. They should do this more often.

"...Now as I was saying-"

"Did Prince Hans really try to kill you both?"

"Princess Anna! Do you still love him?"

"Did you know Hans has been our Prince of the Week six times in a row? How do you feel about his popularity with the commons?"

How Elsa managed to keep that smile on, Anna had no idea. She was pretty sure she was baring her teeth into something closely resembling a snarl. And given the opportunity, she would bite. Happily. Let one of them come a little closer. Elsa had put her hand back on Anna's arm, and it was gripping much more tightly now – keeping which of them under control? Hard to tell. Probably both of them.

"As I was saying – again – I am happy to answer as many of your questions as I can. Now if we could please go one at a time..." She gestured – not quite a point, Anna guessed that was one of those things queens weren't supposed to do, acknowledging the proletariat or something – at one of the waving hands near the front of the scrum. "Yes, you may ask your question."

"Thank you, your majesty." The woman sounded more pompous than Elsa on her worst day. Anna hated her immediately, even if she _had_ actually waited her turn. "Our readers want to know... What is your body temperature?"

Elsa stiffened. "Um... I'm not entirely sure I know the answer to that question."

"Thermometers aren't in widespread use for several more years," Anna whispered. "You're good not knowing."

"Right, thanks." A beat, then Elsa looked at her. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"I can read, believe it or not."

"Yeah, but-"

"Can you tell us if it's true that you can create _anything_ out of ice?"

Elsa's turned back to the crowd, and Anna noticed a distinct redness to her face – a little strange; she wondered where Elsa's mind was going. Could Elsa's pure little brain actually work like _that_? She filed it away for future teasing.

"I'm... afraid I'm not sure I understand the question."

"We've heard rumors of a snow monster roaming about the mountains. Is this true? Was it your creation?"

"If there is a _monster_, I know nothing about it."

"Yeah," Anna muttered. "He's a total marshmallow."

Elsa stepped on her foot. Hard. "Hush."

"Your majesty, is blonde your natural hair color?"

"Were you really wearing a gown of ice and snow when you returned to Arendelle? And is it true that you chose to reveal your ankles?"

"Do you feel that you have been unfairly maligned by the press? Why do you think they have embraced Hans instead of yourselves?"

Anna was practically hopping. She wasn't going to be able to keep her mouth shut much longer. Particularly if she heard the word "Hans" one more time. He must have paid someone off, the bastard. Hans-Hans-Hans, it was all they could think about. It was those stupid sideburns. Had to be.

"Prince of the Week" indeed. No wonder her parents had locked up the castle. People outside of it were crazy.

"Queen Elsa, is it true your sister has hooked up with a commoner?"

Okay, that was it. Anna stepped forward, and ignored Elsa's hand on her arm. "Excuse me? _Hooked up_?"

Now they went nuts. Absolutely nuts. Because she was talking?

Great.

There was going to be a Talk later.

"Princess Anna, did you really freeze to death?"

"Princess, how did it feel to freeze?"

"Is it true that you're dating a troll?"

"Anna, do you still love Hans?"

"Princess Anna, can you tell us when you're going to see him again?"

Anna looked out at them. She knew what expression was on her face now – that I-am-so-done-with-this look. She liked that look. She hadn't seen it, but she liked the results.

She turned her head, looking back at Elsa. Elsa raised an eyebrow – she was good at that – asking permission to negate her earlier order.

"Go for it," said Anna.

"It would be my pleasure."

She raised her hands.

A wall of ice did quite nicely, hiding them from the screaming crowd, which quickly fell into a buzz of excitement and probably consternation. And after a moment, Elsa dissolved into giggles, leaving Anna feeling vaguely stunned. "You thought that was... funny?"

"Your _face_. Oh, Anna, I'm sorry, but..."

"Yeah, alright, alright. Stupid _Hans_."

"We'll have to buy copies of all the journals next month for Kristoff."

"...Don't you _dare_."

From the other side of the wall, there was another commotion, the shouting beginning again. They both turned to look, but the ice was too opaque to see what was going on.

"Did they say they were doing anything else?" Anna asked.

"...No."

After a moment, the crowd quieted somewhat, and they could hear the anticipatory, "...Whoooa... _People._"

"Oh, no."

"Get the wall down, get the wall down!"

But it was too late.

"Hi, everyone. My name is Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

The crowd went wild.


	3. Let Your Hair Down

**Credit for this idea goes to Converse r life - thank you so much! This was a spectacular idea, and it's been amazing to write; I've found I like befuddled Elsa. I hope it's what you expected/wanted from the ideas you sent me; I love them all, so I'll definitely be working on the others in the near future. And honestly, I love ****_all_**** the ideas you wonderful readers have sent me - keep them coming, I've got a list going! It may take me awhile to get to them all, but I'll be working hard on it. These are so much fun to write (I hope they're as much fun to read!), and give me a great way to relax when I have a few hours free. **

**And as always, know that I very much appreciate not only your ideas, but also your reviews, favorites, follows, etc. Cheers!**

* * *

**Let Your Hair Down**

Elsa was always on time. Always. She was always up when she was supposed to be up, ready to go when she was supposed to be ready to go, well-dressed and buttoned up and as proper as proper could be. She always had been. She believed she always would be.

But the Anna factor was not something she had necessarily calculated into her schedule. Anna liked to stay up late. Anna liked to talk _Elsa_ into staying up late. And sometimes, Elsa allowed it.

She had always still managed to drag herself out of bed in time the next morning, her internal clock so attuned to the necessities of her schedule that it went off regardless of her bleary mind and blearier eyes. And she knew Anna had to be awakened with what was essentially cannon blasts at her door, but Elsa had never had that problem. She never expected to. She never asked for anyone's assistance.

And so, the inevitable day came when she slept in. Curled up and content, perfectly happy in her bed, until straws were drawn about who was going to have to try to find her. Because she had already missed a meeting with her advisors that had been scheduled over breakfast, there were several addendums to a recent proxy case she had presided over that needed to be signed off on, and from mid-morning on, she had meetings with several diplomats who might not be quite as understanding as her own staff.

It was reaching mid-morning.

The lady's maid who had drawn the short straw crept down the hallway, so tense she jumped well into the air when Anna went sailing by, despite everyone being quite used to Anna bouncing around at all hours of the day and night. Today, as it happened, Anna too had just woken up, but all she was worried about was a visit from Kristoff. She never even looked back.

The maid crept on. She reached Elsa's door. Took a deep breath. Tapped tentatively.

There was sound from inside – Elsa rather more sensitive than her sister. Small noises, then something rather like a squeak_. _A startled squeak that probably meant Elsa had looked at her clock.

The maid assumed she could leave it there. She was _not_ going in. She had not been employed in the castle at the time of... the incident... but she had heard. She was not avid to be an ice sculpture. The queen could manage the rest herself.

In her room, Elsa suddenly had a very real idea of how Anna felt every morning.

Panicked.

Not that Anna usually had anywhere to be, she was just expected up at some point. Elsa, on the other hand, was looking at her clock, looking out the window, and strongly considering faking a case of the flu. Could she get the flu? Well, nobody else needed to know if she could or could not.

But she knew she wouldn't. She rubbed her face with her hands, forced herself up, cursed her sister for wanting to talk about... what _had_ they talked about for half the night? Something bizarre. She couldn't remember. Had it had something to do with carrots?

...Nevermind, _nevermind_, get up. _Up_. Baron whatever-his-name-was was probably already in the study or the throne room or wherever she was supposed to meet with him, drumming his fingers and canceling every treaty and trade agreement and betrothal of third cousins Arendelle had ever agreed to, the snooty, hyped-up little...

Thoughts of this nature carried her through dressing – making sure she was decent, for once not worried quite so much about whether _this_ shade perfectly complemented _that_ one, and really, why was wearing a nice layer of ice so indecent anyway, silly _convention_, and just what _had_ Anna done to her last night, because she was thinking like her sister now – and digging out shoes and deciding she wouldn't mind, for a change, if she didn't put on makeup to mask it and someone felt the need to point out how very much her nose resembled her father's. No time, no time, no time.

And her hair. She grimaced at it in the mirror. Should have slept with it braided. No time to do that now, much less get it all bundled and bunned and artfully arranged so that every strand was perfectly regal. Comb it, and – well, why not? - let it go.

The maid who had knocked at her door was coming back down the hall with an armful of clean linen when Elsa barreled past her.

She looked back. Just making sure. Yes, it was definitely the queen. She looked _remarkably_ like the princess just then. And here the maid had been told, when she was hired, that the two could not be more different. And look at all that hair the queen had – lovely. Any girl would kill for it.

The maid had always been told that it wasn't proper for young women to wear their hair loose. But she supposed that if you were queen, propriety was whatever you chose to do. She made a mental note to begin copying the style, before everyone else was doing it.

Elsa was panting, so out of breath she could hardly stand, when she found Kai. "The... the baron," she managed to gasp. "He's... where...?"

Kai gaped at her for a moment, and she wondered if he had misunderstood her. Alright, admittedly, it hadn't been the most elegantly phrased question, but he knew her schedule better than she did, so he must be able to figure it out. Anyway, she wasn't sure she could squeeze any more words out; she felt like her lungs were crawling up her throat.

"Er... your majesty," he said, rather gently. "I don't believe that... that you... erm..."

"What?" It came out more as a weird, strangled kind of noise than a word.

"Well... the baron..."

"Yes." Finally getting something close to control. At least she didn't feel like she was about to have to grab him for support anymore. "Where is he?"

For a moment, she thought Kai was going to say something that would not answer her question; his face certainly looked rather conflicted. "In your study, your majesty," he finally said.

"Thank you." She tucked her hair behind her ears, and noticed him watching. Odd.

The Baron of Selvgod she had dealt with in the past – he was very old, very fat, very inclined to believe in his own importance in all matters, and very disinclined to female rulers generally, and female rulers without husbands who also happened to have magic powers in particular. Or at least, Elsa was fairly certain of the latter, though she had never specifically asked for confirmation. She feared he might then propose to her, because his dislike of female rulers without husbands who also happened to have magic powers might be mediated by the chance to _be_ the husband of a female ruler who also happened to have magic powers. She was not opposed to marriage, but did not wish to have to freeze a boorish bridegroom on her wedding night. That might start rumors.

She couldn't have _that_, now could she?

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her own thoughts, because Selvgod was standing to greet her, lumbering towards her as he always did, while she carefully tucked her hands behind her back because _no one_ was ever going to kiss one of them, however much they might hope to win her hand by slobbering on it.

But before Selvgod could reach her, he stopped and stared, his eyes suddenly bulging comically, his mouth dropping open to reveal surprisingly tiny teeth.

Elsa wasn't sure, at that moment, if she wished Anna was here or not. Anna would love to see that expression. But giggling at dignitaries was usually frowned upon.

"Baron Selvgod," Elsa said, hoping he wasn't about to drop dead of a heart attack. His heir might be even worse. It so often happened that way, "It's a pleasure to see you again. Please, be seated."

"Uh... your majesty," he said, and he was still standing, which annoyed her just a bit, because she had expressly told him otherwise, and what good was being queen if you couldn't occasionally expect things to go your way? "Your, uh... you... you look lovely."

Now it was her turn to look surprised, though she rather hoped her eyes didn't bug out quite that much. They took up enough of her face as it was. "I... thank you. Now... would you like to sit? Please."

He backed up, almost fell into his chair. He was still staring at her. Elsa blinked, tucked her hair back again – she didn't realize how much of it there was until it was constantly falling into her face – and took her own seat at her desk.

"Shall we begin?"

"Um..." He was still staring. She hadn't eaten anything, so she was fairly certain she couldn't have anything on her face, because surely she would have noticed when she was getting ready? She had washed her face the night before, as she always did. And she probably didn't have ice hanging from her ears (again; hopefully _that_ little incident had been a one-off). Maybe her clothes really didn't match. She tried to surreptitiously look down at them, but it felt awkward, staring at herself while he did the same. Except he was looking fixedly at her face. Not her clothes, then. Very, very peculiar.

"I believe you wanted to discuss the agreements we've made to offer legislative assistance to..."

And so it went. She steered the conversation as best she could – not something she was used to; she was more adept at foiling their own attempts to do the same – and he hemmed and hawed and stared at her so much she could feel her face beginning to redden. What in the _world_ was so interesting?

Negotiations that should have taken an hour wound up taking the better part of two. But in the end, when she asked if they had come to an agreement themselves, he nodded vigorously, offered no additional demands or requirements, and said he would be happy to sign anything her clerk sent along later.

Well, then. Perhaps this wasn't so terrible after all. Except she still didn't have any clue what "this" was.

A lord, an ambassador, another lord – the first kept blinking very slowly at her, as if trying to clear his vision. The second was more inclined to sneak glances, trying to appear as if he was very interested in shuffling and re-shuffling the papers before him, but each time she looked up from her own materials, he was peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. The third stared almost as openly as Selvgod had, except that he kept coughing, finally sending himself into a fit that reached such hysterical levels she almost called for someone to fetch a physician. He insisted he was fine, then proceeded to do it again.

_Well_.

Her morning done – a bit late, between her tardy start and the extended time that some negotiations had taken thanks to whatever was apparently in the Arendelle water today – she went to find Anna for lunch. Knowing Kristoff was coming, she had rather pointedly insisted that Anna – and Kristoff, were he so inclined – _would_ join her. Because otherwise, they might have a bit too much free time to hide away in wherever they had decided today was a place where no servant or staff member would see them. Thus far, they had been caught every time. Then again, that was perhaps because Elsa sent someone to follow them every time.

She loved her sister, but did not trust her as far as that went. And Kristoff... Well, she wasn't sure about Kristoff yet. There were several things about him that struck Elsa as more than passing strange. Anna could get dragged into all sorts of unusual activities she might enjoy far more than a princess really should. Like ice harvesting.

Except it really wasn't fair if she placed that kind of blame on Kristoff – there would be no dragging. Anna would probably jump in head-first.

So – lunch.

She walked through the halls to the small family dining room, and it seemed that every person she saw did a double take. Maybe she _did_ have ice hanging from her ears. She checked when she was fairly certain that, for a moment, she was alone.

Nothing. Just her hair hanging over them. She hadn't ever noticed how heavy her hair was. She pushed it off her shoulders again, shaking her head back to get it out of her face, and a servant coming around a corner with a stack of envelopes dropped them everywhere and stood gawping rather than picking them up.

She raised an eyebrow at him, intending it as a gentle rebuke, and he turned so red that for the second time that day she feared for someone's health. Then he scurried off, half bent over as if he had a cramp in his stomach. She watched him go, looked back at the envelopes still scattered on the carpet before her, and decided to reconsider not requiring her personal approval of the hiring of new staff.

First criteria: wouldn't stare.

It came as no great surprise that she did not find either Anna or Kristoff in the dining room, though she was there a good quarter hour after their agreed-upon time. Clearly, yet again, she was going to have to search for them, find out what illicit activity they were up to this time.

"In the stables," Kai said.

At least in front of him, Elsa did not have to hide her inclination to roll her eyes. Though even _he_ was still staring, when normally he was the picture of decorum. She almost asked, because he would probably be willing to provide an explanation, but her annoyance at her sister overcame her curiosity. _One thing_ Anna had been asked to do today, and cavorting in the stables was apparently much more pressing.

She was maybe walking rather quickly, and _maybe_ looked a bit intimidating – she had been told that certain of her expressions, aside from the whole threat of freezing whoever was the subject of her displeasure, had that effect – but that still didn't mean that every groom, groundsman, and messenger who was in the courtyard between the castle and the stables had to stop whatever they were doing in favor of the now-familiar gaping, bug-eyed, idiot expression.

Her braid had always bounced against her shoulders when she walked quickly, but loose, her hair kind of... flowed. It was an odd feeling. Different. Maybe _good_ different, though, as Anna might say. She wasn't sure yet.

In the stables, she found Anna hanging upside down by her knees from a beam, braids dangling. She swung up, pushed up on her arms, flipped back down, tried to do it again, lost her grip, and went crashing into the straw.

"You _can't_ do it twice," she said. "It's not possible."

"It is," Kristoff said.

"Then do it!"

"I told you. Not enough clearance here. Next time we're out in the woods, I'll show you."

"I don't believe you."

He shrugged.

Elsa cleared her throat.

Anna, still sitting on the ground, hunched, closed her eyes, said, "Whoops."

"Yes. Whoops."

"Uh... is it already noon?"

"Closer to half past."

"Whoops."

"So you said."

"But we were just-" But she chose that moment to look up. And something very familiar happened.

"Oh, not you, too!" Elsa said.

"But Elsa... you look... you're... wow."

"I'm _wow_?"

"Yeah, you're-" Anna's eyes widened. "The orchard!" She jumped up and ran.

"The orchard?"

"Trees," Kristoff said, as if that explained everything. "Not that they'll be big enough." He looked at Elsa for the first time – he usually wouldn't look at her at all, so this was progress – and she was not exactly surprised to see his eyes go wide, his face go red, _et cetera ad nauseam_.

"Okay," she finally said. "Enough is enough. What in the _world_ is everyone staring at?"

Kristoff's face was closer to purple now. He was very pointedly _not_ looking at her; she did not believe his feet were actually that interesting.

"Kristoff."

No response, but he was edging away.

"_Kristoff_." The voice that she used – often with Anna – that meant _don't you dare do anything else until I tell you you have my permission_.

He stopped. (Anna never did.) But that patch of dirt he was toeing must be fascinating. "I, uh... I really should go and... uh... make sure she's okay. You know. Anna. In the orchard. Some of those trees are... tall."

"You take one more step towards that door, and you will find yourself deeper in snow than even you have ever been in your life."

He didn't take one more step towards that door.

"Thank you. Now – _what is everyone staring at_?"

"Well, it's, uh... it's... well... your majest-... Elsa... Queen Elsa... It's..."

This might be the final result of letting Anna talk your ear off once too often. You lost all ability to form coherent speech.

"Kristoff." How many times was she going to have to say it? It was sounding less and less like a word. More like a coughing kind of noise. "No snow. Just tell me."

"It's... it's just..."

"_What_?"

"Your hair!" he shouted, then turned his face up to examine the same beams Anna had been swinging from like a deranged, pigtailed monkey.

"My... hair?" Not what she had expected. Not at _all_ what she had expected.

"It's just... there's... a lot of it."

"A lot of it."

"Well... yeah. And it's... I guess... kind of... um... kind of..."

She waited this time. She wasn't going to coax every word from him.

"It's... well.. it's pretty."

"It's _pretty_?"

"Can I say that to a queen?" Panic now, though he was still looking up. She could see his brow drop.

"Yes, you can say that to a queen. This one, anyway."

"...Thanks. I think. Uh, anyway. I think maybe... it's just... most girls... I mean, not _girls_, most, um... most _ladies_... is that okay?... Most ladies don't... they don't... wear it... you know... down. Like that."

"...Oh." Well, that explained that. She didn't flaunt convention, but clearly there were still many aspects of it she didn't understand. Though truly, if it meant negotiations went as swimmingly well as they had done this morning, perhaps it was time to go back to the ice dress. With that, she might soon rule the world. (Not that she particularly wanted to, but knowing she could seemed like quite the confidence booster.)

Anna came tearing back in. She still had straw in her hair, and was now carrying apples. "Look, I brought lunch!"

Kristoff looked so relieved to see her Elsa feared he might burst into tears. "Apples!" he said, rather unconvincingly excited at the prospect.

"Uh-uh," Elsa said. "We're going inside. Both of you. No more flipping, no more climbing trees – or whatever you've been doing, and no, I don't want to know what it was – until after we have a _civilized lunch inside the castle_."

Anna tossed an apple to Kristoff, who had the reflexes to catch it despite his continued hangdog expression and red complexion. Then she grinned at Elsa. "You should probably do something about that hair first. Everyone I passed was whispering about it."

Elsa looked at her for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the one with straw in my braids."

Anna put the hand not holding apples to her head and looked so comically shocked that even Elsa found herself laughing.

They had lunch just as they were. And though it was a close call, Elsa _did_ manage to control her laughter when a servant fell face-first into the soup when he caught sight of her.

Flaunting convention, indeed. She sat up straighter, tossed her hair back, and waited for the next course.


End file.
